Forgetting to Remember
by Micky Moon
Summary: Instead of being sent to another world, Shiro and Sora find their lives being reset which include ridding their memories and time spent together. —Shiro/Sora
1. a dream or reality

one: a dream or reality

The only light source came in the form of an iridescent glow of the computer screens, the monitors taking up much space in the pitch dark room.

Two figures were in front of the computer screens: one eighteen year old boy collapsed in his chair and one eleven year old girl laid waste at the foot of his chair.

"I did it," came a raspy voice. The eighteen year old threw aside his headphones, blinking the strain away from his eyes. "I did it..." His heavy breathing only stopped when his lips was touched with something cool. He opened his eyes.

"Keep...yourself...hydrated, nii." The eleven year old girl held an uncapped water bottle to his face, her uncombed hair dangling wildly everywhere and in the way of her face. Though the stench she carried with her was hardly bearable, he wasn't bothered. The sight that this girl cared for him brought a smile to his face.

This was all that mattered.

"Thanks, Shiro," he accepted the drink and ignored the blush that beg to arise on his face when his fingers accidentally touched hers. The little girl didn't notice and if she did, it most likely brushed off as one of his abnormalities. Sora took her reaction as his as well; after all, Shiro was always right.

Ping! Ping! Ping!

"Eh?" Sora peered on his screen where a private chat had opened up. Someone was requesting a game.

Something weighed by the side of his leg and he looked down to see his sister struggling, with what little strength she had left, to sit on his lap. A small smile formed on his face as he hoisted her up onto him.

"So are you ready?" He asked her, who just glared at him. He chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Well then, let's do it."

He clicked the 'accept' button, both siblings anticipating what was in store for them only—

—only to find that it was a chess game.

"Bye...bye..." His shocked eyes darted from the screen and widened more at the sight of life escaping from his sister, the leftover corpse plummeting to the ground.

"No! Shiro! You can't leave me like this!" He reached to seat her upright, the girl moving in a jelly-like motion in his lap. "This is your specialty!"

The girl opened her eyes a fraction, her lips trembling from fatigue as she spoke. "But nii...tired...you can do...this..."

"I love your faith in your onii-chan but that alone does not give me the skills—woah, woah!"

The next move the unknown player had a decisive power over him, that much Sora could decipher. He paled, biting his lips to figure out which move to play next.

Strategy games were not his forte.

A small hand hovered his—Shiro.

"Let me help...nii."

He grinned, lifting the girl back and letting her lean against his chest. Smothering his face into her hair, his breath tickled her skin as he spoke.

"Let's go."

Few minutes and excruciating moves later, the chess board materialized into flashing words: YOU WIN.

The two siblings sighed in relief.

"That...was hard nii..."

"I know," Sora wiped sweat off his forehead. "It's been awhile huh? But as always, no one can beat Blank."

Shiro, who had been heavily breathing, snuggled deeper into her brother's chest, letting his warmth lull her to sleep.

"Of...course..."

A message popped up.

"Eh?"

Shifting in his seat so to not disturb his sister, Sora readjusted himself for a better view of the message.

"Well done—" Shiro snorted, causing Sora to throw a glare at her. The two siblings knew what he meant. _Let me finish reading._ "If you're that good at games… The world must be a tough place for you to live, right? What do you think about your world?

"Is it fun? Is it easy to live in?"

"...a joke?" Shiro lifted herself, resting her chin against a propped arm. "...nii?"

"I don't know Shiro," he sounded tense, unlike the cool facade he carried all the time or the calm character he built for Shiro. The message nerved him, reminded him precisely what he disliked about the world. It sucked. There were over a billion players but no ways to analyze the parameters or the characters. Above all, it wasn't a guarantee you would top out as number one for there were many definitions of wins. And for ever win, there were much more ways to lose.

Life was just...

"...a crappy game," Shiro whispered.

Sora reached to squeeze her hand. She squeezed back.

Without a warning, a loud ringing noise sounded. The computer screen blanked out and became filled with a mess of grey static. White mist was pumped in from the vents. Shiro and Sora jumped off from their seat, sending stacks of empty ramen cups and juice packets spinning messily on the ground.

"N-nii?" She came closer to him, to an almost suffocating degree. Sora merely pulled her nearer.

"Shiro, just stay beside me," his voice was collected, calm. He squeezed her hand. "Everything will be alright."

"Nii..." Her voice grew fainter as the smoke enveloped her—as though it dissolved her in his grip; Sora frantically reached for her.

"Shiro—" He tried calling but the smoke filled his lungs, impeding him from getting any noises out of his mouth. His throat felt heavy, sore, as though it was being scratched from the inside; lungs felt unbelievably heavy, as though it was being weighed down. "S...hi...ro..."

Before he completely gave out, he felt around for—for anything. He didn't quite know. If this were a game, he could count on his special skill to get him an unaffected area. If this were a game, he could identify who the enemy was and take him out, thus ending this undesirable dilemma.

But life wasn't a game (not even a decent one, at the very least) so what he was searching for was neither a skill not the enemy. He was searching for—

"Shi...ro."

The world became black.

—

"Ugh…Shi…" the red head sat upright with a splitting headache, light spilling rapidly into his eyes as his vision slowly returned to normal. "…ro."

He blinked.

Instead of the computers surrounded in the room and a putrid smell of rotting food polluting the air, the room looked ordinary: bookcase on one side, closet on the other, a desk in another end, and the bed he was in was right across the door.

Sora shoved aside the blankets away from him, his lips forming a frown.

Where am I?

"Sora!" A chill ran through his body, his ears not used to hearing a female voice, that belonged to an actually person, besides…_who?_ "Eat your breakfast! You'll be late to school!"

"Ah…" Breakfast? His eyes scanned the room he was in, eventually landing on a window which curtains were parted. Sunlight streamed in, illuminating the neatness and freshness of the room. "…coming?"

He was uncertain; it showed in his slow actions of getting out of bed and putting on his slippers to walk. But once he did, his body strangely moved on its own. Through a door he once never knew existed. Through hallways he had never seen before. And into a bathroom he didn't know he had used before.

Worst part of it all?

_Why do I feel like these things shouldn't exist?_

The question stuck with him as he uncapped the toothpaste by the sink, his hand instinctively reaching for a blue colored toothbrush which was alone in a pink colored cup. While brushing, he glanced at his reflection through the bathroom mirror.

Unruly red hair with black highlights. Slim but healthy masculine face. Shining ruby awake eyes.

"How come…" he set down his toothbrush, one hand touching beneath his eyes and the other reaching his mirrored reflection. "…I feel I should have bags under my eyes?"

"Sora!"

Shaken from his stupor, Sora quickly rinsed himself and threw on some clothing. Racing down the stairs, he found the kitchen to be bustling with activity, a woman cooking by the stove and a man scribbling something in the middle of a paper mess.

When the woman saw Sora, she smiled. "Finally awake sleepyhead!"

"Huh? Uh...yeah..." He awkwardly scratched his head, debating his course of action. "...I..."

"Come here," he was taken by the arm and led to the table covered with papers. To his surprise, the woman shoved most of it away, not caring that some spilled on the floor. "Sit right here while I fix you some breakfast."

"Oh...okay..." He fidgeted in his seat, eyes scattering everywhere but the man sitting at the same table and the woman cooking in the same room. He should know them, he sensed. But for some reason...he couldn't.

"Is there something wrong, son?"

He nearly jumped off, eyes nervously landing on the man who had set aside his paper and looked straight into his eyes.

His eyes were red as well.

"I...uh..." Seemed like he was incapable of speech.

It didn't deter the man from socializing though. "How's that gaming tournament you're training for though? Aiming for gold this time?"

And then it was though the uncertainty broke, like a player finally finishing the tutorial part of a game and remembering which key was to attack and which to jump.

He talked energetically to his dad about the upcoming tournaments, champions he planned to use and the training regime he came up with. He stopped at times; afraid the man would be lost with his terminology but was pleasantly surprised when he responded.

"You need to improve your speed otherwise you'll never become number one." His father took a sip from his coffee with a smile.

"Speed? Having average speed is fine," Sora leaned in, "as long as the damage you make increases."

Bam!

The dish clattered in front of him, ceasing the conversation he had. He looked up to the half smiling, half annoyed expression of his brown eyed mother.

"Game talk at the table again?" She placed her hands on her hips, "you're already late to school. Don't waste it talking about gaming."

"Oh let him be." The man winked at Sora, who smiled.

"Boy needs his nutrients!"

Sora glanced uncertainly at the plate set in front of him; the scrambled egg was a yellow mess and the toast was a charcoal brick. An intimidating aura was detectable, however, causing the boy to pick up his fork and dig into the eggs. He braced himself to throw up—except he never did. The food was remarkably consumable.

In fact, it tasted delicious. The eggs were soft and chewable, the yolk adding flavor to perfect the taste. The bread was crispy and not at all burnt.

Finishing, he downed the food with a glass of milk, setting down his empty dishes by the sink. His parents were already settled down in the living room, getting ready for their own agendas that day. Sora pulled the strap of his book bag on his shoulders higher up.

"Thanks mom, dad. Enjoyed it a lot."

_Why did I ever think something was wrong?_

—

"Shoot I'm late." He ran through the busy streets, maneuvering his way through businessmen and old people carrying groceries behind them. He offered to help one elder but was rejected. He shrugged.

It was a beautiful day.

Birds were chirping merrily in the lush greenery and not a speck of white was in sight. There was a gentle breeze in the air, tickling his skin as he ran. He rather liked the adrenaline running inside of him and everything around him becoming a colorful blur, as though he was on fast-forward.

Few minutes later, however, his breath grew heavier and face sweatier. He paused at a red light. "Damn, was I always this out of shape?"

The red light switched to green and pedestrians started to walk. The sun, coming to view, became abnormally then; its languid rays clawing at him and submerging him in heat and leaving him in a hot, sticky mess. His footsteps were shaky, affected by the sun. He took only a few steps before bumping into someone.

"Ouch," a monotonous, soft voice spoke. "That hurts."

He felt something, or rather _someone_, warm pressed against his leg, hindering him from walking further.

He looked down.

A pair of eyes, as red as the color of the walk sign switched to, met his—wide, as though he was a spectacle but then small, as though the magic of first encounters shattered.

"Hey watch it!"

He was shoved a bit; the light suddenly changed to green once more and people started to walk. Instead of leaving, Sora clutched the shoulders of the girl in front of him, shielding her away from the rough movements of pedestrians.

"Sorry," he smiled charismatically to those who stared disgustingly at him. "Please pass by."

He didn't know what made him behave this way but he stayed in his position until finally the streets were cleared and it was just him and this girl alone.

"Please let me go."

Blinking, Sora was taken aback by how his hands still lingered on the girl's shoulders. "I'm sorry!"

She stood up, brushing dirt off the hem of her white plain dress. Her pale, cyan blue hair which trickled down to her knees curled this way and that, animatedly moving as though it was alive. It was funny: everything about her was pale and lifeless, from her porcelain white skin to her platinum blue hair— except her eyes which blazed alive like sparks of fire flickering wildly.

She was a perfect, flawless beauty.

"Eh?" He thought. "Did I say that about someone before? Sounds familiar."

"Move," she looked at him now, eyes burning with displeasure.

He was about to step aside; the only gentleman thing to do when he hesitated. It amused him.

It amused him how despite appearing stoic and talking with such monotone, she was so transparent. Her eyes revealed them all: how interested she was when she stared into him, how quick she became bored of him, and, now, how annoyed she was towards him.

It excited him, for some reason.

Excited him more than the adrenaline rush from running.

That was all the reason he needed.

Unconsciously, he pulled her into an embrace. His larger frame enveloped hers. He closed his eyes.

_I wonder what her eyes will reveal this time._

She felt warm underneath him, making him wonder how a pale skinned beauty could be filled with such warmth. She felt comfortable, as he rested his head in the crook of her neck, far more comfortable than his pillow. And her hair—_oh her hair_—appeared unruly and untamed but felt silky and soft and…familiar. She felt heavenly.

Then, he was shoved aside.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" She sputtered. "Per-pervert!"

"Ah," he rubbed his head, eyes widening. "N-no! I'm not a pervert!"

"You attacked me."

"Hugged," Sora corrected but elicited no agreement. He started to sweat. If he thought about his rash actions now, it was his fault for hugging out of nowhere. But how could he apologize when he didn't even know why he hugged her in the first place? Was it out of impulse or a hidden desire for beautiful things?

_Goddammit, I am a pervert._

"Well uhm…" his eyes desperately darted around in search for a change in topic. "…nice day isn't it?" The girl wasn't the least bit amused. "W-well, what's the dress you're wearing? It doesn't look like anything I've seen. It actually looks like—"

"Ripped piece of cloth?" The girl finished, her eyes narrowing. "You really are empty, huh."

The words gripped him by the throat, seizing whatever breath he was holding. It was as though an alarm went off inside of him, an alarm ringing _déjà-vu, déjà-vu, déjà-vu._

She turned her back from him and started to walk but was stopped when her wrist was caught by his hand.

"You…" He struggled for words, wondering how to phrase it without sounding crazy. "…have…we met before?"

For the first time, she flinched—her body shivered and small hands balled into a shaky fist.

"I…" she started to answer but was cut off by the sound of incoming footsteps, growing louder and louder.

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

The noise finally stopped but two figure clothed in black grabbed the girl, who immediately became limp, by the arm. Her head hung low, hair trickling to the ground.

"Hey…" He was confused. "…what are you doing to her?"

They didn't answer and turned around instead, walking back from the direction they came from. Eyes hidden under the shadow of her hair, Shiro didn't face him even once. He bit his lower lip.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Hey! Get back here!" He started after them, but then another figure stood in his way.

"Thanks for looking after Shiro," the figure spoke in a sweet, melodic pitch. Feminine. "We really appreciate it!"

"What?" Sora cocked his head, looking over the figure's shoulder. The girl and the two figure were nowhere in sight. He looked back at the figure that stood in his way but to his shock and dismay, the female figure was no longer there.

"What? What the hell is going on?" He scratched his head, digesting what had just happened. He was hugging her. They were talking. She was being kidnapped. Some person told her they appreciated it.

Then did he play a role in some conspiracy plan?

But who was she to have not one person but three people fetch her?

"Who is she?"

_Who is Shiro?_

* * *

Word count: 2,930

* * *

A/N: You guys have no clue how long I've been planning this story by now. Part of the reason I have finally released this is because the beginning should follow the original story but I'm too lazy to rewatch the first episode or read the novel so I decided to wing it in the end (I'm sorry if it bothers anyone). Another reason is because of my laziness. 8P And I'm also not a gamer so apologize for my terrible attempt at construing a discussion (it's because of watching the first eppy of SAOII, that anime is poison).

Characters may seem a bit out of character, especially towards the beginning. I had hoped to humanize the siblings a bit more; especially Sora since his attitude was grating and flaws didn't really make him any less invincible (which makes sense, given the general nature of NGNL but considering how he should _struggle_ without purposely fooling the audience by explaining it was all a ruse is stupid—and I'll stop ranting about what I had problems with the anime. 8D)

But anyways, I've finally passed this horrid first chapter! This fanfiction will have more than 10 chapters (I didn't finish planning it out because _lazy_) but I'm up to chapter 10 and it is most likely less than 15/20 chapters long.

Thanks so much for reading and hope to hear what you guys think of it so far!


	2. all is not what it seems

_two: all is not what it seems _

"Look who decided to show up!"

The red haired boy blinked at the welcoming sight, of cheerful students and an absent teacher, that greeted him when he finally arrived by the doorway. Hanging above the doorway, the sign gleamed brightly, in black inking: CLASS 2B.

_Eh? How did I know to come here?_

"Did you sleep in?" Another boy suddenly appeared in front of him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Having wet dreams about a girl didn't you now?"

_Well, I was late because of a girl. _His mind flashed back to his earlier encounter with a cerulean haired beauty—

—and how close he was to committing a crime as a pervert.

"Hey, hey," The boy was shooed away; his grin disappearing and annoyance replacing mischievousness. "can you get back to doing the work sensei left behind for us?"

"Good luck," The boy whispered in Sora's ear, patting his shoulder, "dealing with _her_."

"I heard that," a girl with cherry colored hair appeared, hands placed on either side of her hip. Her aquamarine eyes flashed brilliantly. The boy faked a yelp and ran off, leaving Sora confused. The girl stared at the boy who left and sighed. "This class is _hopeless_."

"Anno…"

"Oh yeah, you," The girl looked back at Sora, her right arm outstretched in an offering manner. "Here."

_What?_ Sora stared quizzically at her arm, wondering what he should do with it. _Does she want to shake hands?_

The girl cocked her head, lips forming a barely visible—but still there—impatient pout. He gradually lifted his own arm, pressing his palm against hers. Though her hand was tiny in comparison to his, his hand fitted perfectly in hers. He gave it a firm shake.

"Uhm…Sora…what are you doing?"

"Hm?" Sora glanced at the girl whose expression was contorted in a mixture of confusion and surprise. "…what do you mean?"

_And how do you know my name?_

"This." With her free hand, she gestured to the hand he was still shaking with. "Why are you shaking my hand when I'm asking for the permission slip I gave you yesterday?"

"Eh? But I…" His shaking hand slowed as Sora's eyebrows scrunched up into a frown. "…what permission slip?"

"You mean you forgot about it after I reminded you about _a billion times_? I know things are tough for a transfer student but this is important—" She stopped, eyes flickering from his face to their joined hands. "Wait is _that_ why shook my hand?"

"Uh…"

Without waiting for him to respond, the girl laughed, letting go of his hand and clutching her stomach. Tears sprang to her eyes as she giggled and snorted; her shoulders rolled with laughter, briefly capturing the attention of some. Sora felt a bit uncomfortable, scratching the back of his head and searching a way out of the situation.

But then he caught sight of the tiny, fleeting smile she wore after she finally stopped.

_C-cute!_

"Well then, Sora," she finally composed herself. In return, Sora swallowed back his thoughts. She forced a piece of paper in his hands. "Here's the sheet. Don't forget. And by the way," she winked, "my name is Stephanie. Stephanie Dola."

He was about to introduce himself when he realized she already knew his name. He shook his head. "Alright." She gave him one last grin before walking away and Sora was left on his own. He was about to find his seat when the boy from earlier approached him.

"Hey, hey, Sora. What do you think of this chick?"

A photograph was shoved into his face and Sora squinted to make out the figures, vaguely able to outline a person with a blonde bob. The second figure however…

"Shiro?"

"Oh you know her?" Stephanie appeared by his side, tilted head brushing his shoulder a bit. "I thought you wouldn't since you just moved a week ago. Funny you'd know this but not the paper I gave you yesterday."

"No but," he ignored what she was saying, pointing adamantly at the lifeless looking girl in the photograph. "Why...does she look so dead? Like—"

"—a corpse? Well, she is nicknamed Death after all."

"Death?" A chill ran down his spine, his lips forming a crude smile. He didn't know whether he was amused by the terrible nickname or perplexed by the choice of the nickname. "Her? Why is she called Death?"

"Apparently she's some kid genius," Stephanie shrugged, "so she lives in the laboratory. Because she's still a kid, people who work at the laboratory play with her. Recently, they've been getting kids our age to play with her."

"So the blurred out person here is..."

"Right," Stephanie nodded. "He was our classmate, Keito."

"Was?"

"Keito...he..."

"That's why she's named Death!" The boy, from before, blurted, coming in between the two of them. "She psychologically kills people!"

"What?" It sounded absurd; that such a little girl with abnormal intelligence would pull off such a thing. "Why would she do that?"

"Because she's corrupt," was the boy's reply. "Keito was the happiest and smartest student in class until he started visiting her."

"Is this..." He turned to Stephanie, whose visage was grave and solemn. "...true?"

"I hate to agree with rumors but yes... Keito was...my best friend. Death came to him too early."

_No. Way._

—

The faculty was large and foreboding, matching exactly the descriptions of all those evil headquarters where the villains performed experiments on innocent children. Large, cylindrical structures right after the other lined up all in a single row, spanning over a few miles. Separating him from such an unknown world, were iron gates, towering in unfathomable heights, and its metal corroded in chips still attached to the, appearing like silver little leaflets with jagged ends.

The sight was a mixture of manmade beauty and horror.

His stomach churned.

"This is the place?" He checked the scrap of paper with instructions he had gotten from Stephanie. The girl was strangely apprehensive, contrasting the friendly attitude she carried. It was funny; she appeared the type to harbor her own opinion, to not let it become affected by anyone else's yet her face contorted to the same expression as everyone else's when Shiro was mentioned—

—it was one of absolute terror.

"Is she really that bad?" He wondered, not knowing where to begin, not knowing where to enter. Deciding to walk left because he preferred it over right, he crumpled the paper and threw it across his shoulder. "There wasn't anything scary about her though..."

That was right; there was nothing he should be worried about. But...

"The picture...did someone really commit suicide because of her?"

He doubted it. He wanted to doubt it. But even if that was true—if he was right—why would his classmates say that she indirectly killed someone? The stories didn't match up. Considering her physique and appearance, she wouldn't be capable of murdering anyone.

Brrr...brrr...brrr...

Feeling his back pocket vibrate, he reached in to pull out a cell phone; its screen lit up with a message: REMEMBER DINNER IS NOODLES AND PORKCHOPS; DON'T BE LATE.

A grimace spread on his face as his fingers around the cell phone tightened. How could he forget? When his mother so ardently reminded him the morning of his favorite meal being tonight's dinner, he was looking forward to it. Yet, dinner was the least on his mind and he couldn't bring himself to care about the disappointment his mother would feel.

"I'm such a bastard," Sora muttered as he began texting an excuse to his mother.

Just as he was about to hit send, a shadow loomed over his screen. He stilled.

"Well, well," a familiar—_feminine_—voice sounded through the quietness in the air, "who do we have here?"

He tensed, back becoming rigid and breathing erratic. He didn't know who would be around here besides the faculty and judging how ominous and oppressive it felt, the workers would most likely match its appearance. Would the smart thing to do right now be to make a run for it?

"You can't run away!" The voice sang, startling Sora. "I'm pretty sure you'd know how far you'd have to travel to get here and besides—"

The voice was suddenly right next to his ear. "—I'm a rather fast runner."

She didn't have to say anything; the underlying message was crystal clear.

_Stop fooling around and give up your identity.__  
_  
Gulping, Sora did just that. Turning around, he braced for the worse.

He doubled back at what he saw instead.

"Good!" A woman, with purple-pink hair tickling down to her knees, smiled, donning a large white lab coat. "You've made this a whole lot easier than I wanted it to." She approached him closer, her perfume faintly detectable. It was unlike the smell of high school girls; it was more womanly, more mature. He held his breath, refusing to let himself become intoxicated.

_Too late._

One of her arms stretched out, grabbing onto his with surprising strength.

He winced.

"Then," she was smiling, revealing pearly white teeth. "You don't mind if I take you in...right?"

* * *

Word Count: 1,521

* * *

A/N: This chapter is a lot less dense in story than the previous chapter since it's still introductions and all. The next chapter should be a lot heavier on the plot. Well still not but oh wells. I did hope I was able to capture Sora's awkwardness, because in the end, he was a NEET which means he isn't well versed with people _that_ well, never mind his charisma and all.

What I like about this chapter is introducing Stephanie and (guess who). They'll be fun to write, Stephanie to a lesser extent since she doesn't have that big of a role, so far. Anywho, I hope this chapter was enjoyable despite the slow pacing the story is at so far.

Thanks for your follows, favorites, and reviews! I hope to hear from you guys soon and to continue having your support!


	3. questions, unanswered questions

three: questions, unanswered questions

A pregnant pause filled the air between them, not a single wind blew. His body was tensed and eyes dried from not blinking. He still couldn't though, despite the painful stinging sensation.

The one responsible for his ordeal was the woman who looked at him with hawkish eyes, glinting of malice and...hunger.

One wrong move, he was a goner—

"—oh my gosh. Y-you actually _fell_ for it?" Her tone switched to a higher pitch, taking on a much bubblier form. She started laughing, clutching her stomach. "You, you look like you're about to die!" Her laughter rang through the air as awkwardness seeped into Sora.

He breathed in relief; body relaxing as he slowly regained his composure. When he finally had shaken from his shock, the woman was still laughing. He tugged at his school uniform collar uncomfortably.

_This is so _not_ cool and funny._

Staring at the laughing woman, he grimaced. The laughter was quickly becoming irritating and he suppressed his urge to forcibly stop the woman from laughing.

Thankfully for him, she calmed herself eventually, adjusting her white coat and giving him her full attention.

"So like I said," she smiled broadly, as though she had not scared the fuck out of him. Stupid woman. "You want to enter?"

"That's completely different from what you said," Sora muttered but the woman ignored him, gesturing the opened door to the building she exited from.

"If you like to have all your questions answered, follow me!"

She started walking, leaving Sora mystified.

"Wait!" His command stopped the woman in her tracks and she looked over her shoulder.

"Hm?"

He hesitated, wondering why exactly he had to go through so many obstacles just to see Shiro, why he had to encounter such a strange woman, and why he felt so dislocated from this experience. And most importantly, why were his questions increasing, left unanswered?

"...how...do you know that I have questions and how...will they be answered? Will they be answered?"

The woman gave a knowing smile, nodding. "That's for you to find out if you choose to have them answered."

—

In the end, he decided to follow the woman.

He passed it off under the consideration that since he had gone this far, he might as well continue with it. But when he and the woman ventured deeper into the building, the more uneasy he became. There seemed to be no end to the path they walked on and the strange jars of glowing objects on either side of the path.

"My name is Jibril," the woman instigated a conversation, likely having noticed his discomfort. "Jibril Flugel. And even though I'm older than you, feel free to call me by Jibril."

"Sora Nai…and…how..." Sora tore his eyes away from the strange showcases, timidly glancing at Jibril, "...did you know I'm younger...?"

The woman placed a finger on her lips, producing a sh sound. "I'm afraid questions are not to be asked here. You may ask later when we reach there."

Their conversation ceased and they resumed their walk without speaking. Jibril decided to break it again.

"Your uniform is very telling."

"H-huh?" He recalled belatedly that her sudden comment was a reply from his earlier question and he stuttered for an answer. "O-oh right."

The woman chuckled. "I'm sorry. I'm pretty awkward. Forgive me."

"N-no, I mean—"

"I guess I should comfort you with the fact that no, I'm not going to do some weird ass experiment on you." They both halted. "I don't have the authority to anyways. So calm down."

"Th-then where are you taking me?"

"More questions?" She tilted her head questioning. "Didn't I say you're not supposed to ask anything until—"

"—how can't I?" He finally let out, his voice a mix of frustration and tension. His body lurched and the slightest movement produced a coat of sweat. "It's just so damn quiet here and dark and suspicious and...just tell me where we're going at least."

She studied him as best as she could with the dark lighting. Sora wondered how much she could possibly see of him; could his unusual red hair

"What is it that—" Jibril began but was cut off by a loud, deafening shriek. Sora impulsively covered his ears, though Jibril stared wide eyed into space. "_Shiro._" Without a warning, she broke off into a run, leaving Sora behind. The boy looked around confusedly before hurrying after her.

"W-wait for me!" His words were drowned in the scream. It was screechy, ghoulish and utterly painful. As the sound grew louder, he wondered who the prepartator could be. Who could possibly be in so much pain?

When the woman finally stopped, the two stood before a large guarded door. The screams were unceasing and Jibril fumbled her coat for something. She finally withdrew a square object, something that looked to Sora an ID.

As she scanned the ID and the scanner verified it in an electronic voice, the guarded door hissed opened, white smoke filling the air. Sora squinted, the smoke filling into his lungs and causing him to go into a coughing fit.

Jibril, however, ran inside. "_SHIRO!_"

The screams instantly died then, as the smoke finally parted and Sora's breathing became normal. He stepped into the room and…he felt _it_.

Sensations of comfort and warmness crept under his skin, eluding him that he was in a place of paradise and not at all a place of vacuity, which precisely described the room they were in. The walls were white and the bright lights were glaringly blinding. The room spanned larger than two bedrooms but there were no furniture which filled it. Instead, a young girl sprawled in the center, her body covering some ruined put-together puzzle pieces. Jibril hovered over her, frantically shaking her limp body.

"_Shiro!_ _Shiro! _You're okay now right?" She was near to hysteria, Sora belatedly realized. Her voice was unleveled, unlike before, and face coated with layers of sweat. It was like the tables have turned; he was the one at ease and she was the one in a panicky state.

But upon closer inspection, as he inched slowly towards them, he recognized the girl to be the person he hugged in the streets before and an uncomfortable lump formed at the pit of his stomach. What was this?

"_Shiro!_ _Shiro—"_

"—calm _down._" No longer able to take it, Sora patted her shoulder, his own hands trembling. "You won't solve anything like this. Can't you get the authorities to come or something?"

Jibril stared at him incredulously before looking back at Shiro and then nodding numbly. "Th-that's right. Why didn't I think of this before?" She laid Shiro down on the ground, kissing her forehead. "I'll come back soon."

As she exited to find help, Sora glanced at Shiro, who was reduced to a shivering state. Her skin appeared paler than ever, lips discolored and quivering. She looked back at him with eyes of an innocent baby, quite unlike the enigma he was attracted to when the first met.

Her lips finally parted. "So...ra."

And perhaps that was what did it.

Impulsively, he embraced her—_again_. This time, her body didn't stiffen under his. Instead, it relaxed, her heartening body melted into his cool one as their figures intertwined in an embrace. Sora inhaled, letting the calming sensation envelop him.

_Ah...there is...definitely no better feeling than this—__  
_  
His thoughts were cut off by a whack on the back of his head. He released Shiro and fell forward, his head throbbing.

"You pervert..." He heard Jibril growl. "What are you doing to Shiro?!"

"I..." He was at a loss for words, eyes flickering from the Jibril, who now secured Shiro away from him, and Shiro, who now realized what was done to her. Her eyes darkened while her face still maintained a steely façade. "…I-I'm not a pervert! I'm just glad to meet her again—"

"—pervert." Shiro's one word reply cemented their impression of him. He knew, there was no easy way getting out of it. From the way they were not so inconspicuously backing up to a door behind them, he would be left alone for who knew how long. He gritted his teeth. "F-fine. I _am_ a pervert."

The two females stopped in their tracks, eyes widening by his unexpected response. Sweat dripped down his forehead as suspicious eyes bore into him, him no longer able to handle the drilling stares.

"I'm a pervert but I really want…I really want…" His mind raced for words to say. Where should he begin? _How are you? Why do people think badly of you? Did you really kill people? Do you really live here? _But above all—

—_why do you feel so familiar?_

Instead, he set aside those questions and opted for an entirely different question, a _request_.

"Can I…play…with you?"

It was a simple question which rippled through the two females. They stared at him as though he were insane, crazy. Their reaction did seem to support the fact that Shiro was responsible in someone's death but if this was so, why didn't he feel the least bit afraid?

Instead, he felt…happy.

He felt happier than he had this entire day. _Happier_, than that conversation he shared with his father.

Was it the idea that he would finally be able to answer his questions through a direct way?

Noticing the two still had yet to make a move, he smiled. _No, that's not quite it._ He looked around him, seeing that there was an abandoned chess set, strewn across the room in a mess. He walked across to retrieve it, all the while feeling suspicious but curious stares not leaving him for one second. As soon as he did, he began setting it up, feeling vaguely proud and miffed about himself.

_I haven't even seen this game before so what the fuck am I doing—_

"—you set the king where the pawn is," a willowy voice sounded. He flinched at the touch of a pearly hand but relaxed when he saw who the owner was. She wasn't the least bit amused. "And you wanted to play with me?"

"Yes," her arrogance was annoying but his was unmatched. He smiled. "Because if you lose to a novice like me, then it makes my request worth it right?"

She bristled, having not foreseen such cockiness. "You're going down."

Her competitiveness elicited a chuckle from the boy who shifted on the floor to make room for Shiro. The girl plopped down and rearranged the pieces. Jibril patted her shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to play with this pervert—"

"—_hush_ Jibril." Her tone was stern. "We're playing now."

The woman withdrew back with a pouty face, forcing Sora to stifle a chuckle. It was funny. To think a woman who was previously threatening was now so docile at the whims of a little girl. And the girl—

"—go," she intervened, "your turn."

"I…uhm…" he scratched his chin, glancing the other way. "…don't know how to play."

"_What?_" She asked mystified but then slapped her forehead. "Of course. You set the board wrong."

He twiddled his thumb. "So…"

"I'll explain quickly," she continued, "listen closely."

And so she did. Her explanation was quick, concise; words spoken in hushed whispers. It was hard for Sora to understand but sensing her impatience, he pretended he understood when she finished. The first game began with Shiro starting. He didn't quite understood and simply continued, moving the pieces wherever he saw fit. The game quickly finished with Shiro as the winner.

"Ah," she said, as though snapped awake from the game they played in. Her eyes glowed from pointed concentration to a curious weak flame. "...I won..." She peeked at him cautiously. "...you don't want to play with Shiro anymore...do you?"

It dawned on him then, the answer to why she was so feared, the reason to why she was so imperturbable. She wasn't easy to defeat. A victory would take an arduous amount of skills and wits. The way she conquered in games wasn't modest either. For every move he made, there was a small smirk on her face. For every move she made, that smirk widened into a toothy grin. It was disconcerting and terrifying; to be both losing and made fun of. Her little expressions seemed to claw at your mind, toy with your heart, until, until you were reduced to a lost and a feeble remainder of your former self. Sora didn't feel this way though.

He reached to pat her head. She looked up. Her eyes were not shining happily like that of a victor but were dimming like that of a loser. Why would a person who won so triumphantly feel dejected? And above all, why didn't anyone notice this about her?

"I'll play with you," he murmured, never leaving his eyes from hers, "I'll stop by everyday so...don't...make that face again. You're prettier when you smile."

And...listening to his words intently, Shiro found herself smiling. It was a seedling finally blossoming into a delicate flower, rare to those who actively seek it but a treasure to those who rightfully deserve it.

"Y-yeah," she was nodding, "p-please! Stop by! Anytime!"

Sora laughed at her enthusiasm, finding himself withdrawing his hand out and then, his pinky. "Pinky promise you'll let me play with you?"

She snuck a shy peek at him before looking the other way. A smaller pinky slid around his. "P-pink promise."

"Pinky promise," Sora corrected. Shiro stared back dumbly. "Th-that's what I said!"

"You said _pink_ promise."

"N-no, I said pinky! I'm pretty sure!"

"Nah, I think you said pink," Sora teased, tightening his pinky around hers and tugging their joined hands towards him so that Shiro shifted towards him as well. "You said pink—the same color as your blush!"

"I-I don't put on makeup."

"Then you're embarrassed aren't you?" He playfully exclaimed, knowing that he was right. The girl now could barely contain the red spilling her face and the boy who was rapidly advancing near his face to neither Sora's nor Shiro's notice. "Come on, Shiro, you should be honest with yourself. You're embarrassed—"

"—hold it," a pull forcibly tugged them apart. "Just when I turn around, you're doing something provocative to Shiro, again."

Jibril, who had been an outsider to their moments together up until now, had Shiro in her arms in a similar fashion as earlier.

"P-provocative? Me?" Sora sputtered, looking confounded. "I was just getting Shiro to—"

"—pervert," came Shiro's muffled voice. Sora flinched.

He bristled at her words, jaws tightening. "Q-quit calling me that! I'm not a pervert!"

"Jibril, why did you bring a pervert here?"

"Hey! Don't ignore me! I'm human!"

"Then why," Shiro's voice was ice cold primadonna with the tiniest hint of humor, "would a human hug a little girl he sees on the street?"

"I—" At a loss for words, Sora angrily stared at the girl whose face was a blank slate but surely she was smiling smugly to herself. "—you!"

"Sora..." A low growl came from behind, freezing Sora on the spot."...did you...do something to Shiro?"

"Ep!" He shielded himself from the woman who seemed close to beating him up. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

For the next few minutes, he was barraged with harsh words and insults from Jibril. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could spy Shiro enjoying this, smiling smugly so openly. He pouted.

_Go figure. Schadenfreude was her go-to mode of entertainment._

"Here," a plastic card was shoved into his hand when Jibril finally finished her lecture. Sora looked at her questioningly.

"I was making your ID card," she explained, "with this, you're welcome to come and go as you like. But please stick to an organized schedule so you won't upset Shiro."

"I won't," he flipped the card with a photo on it and recognized the figure to be of himself. He had a soft smile on and a faraway, dreamlike star. "How did you—"

"There are cameras in this room," Jibril interrupted. "So I just took a snapshot of one of the videos. I think this one was from when you were playing that chess game with Shiro."

Really? He flipped the card, flipped it again. And again. And _again_. His picture still remained the same with him looking as..._happy_ as possible. It was strange. He didn't remember feeling _that_ happy. All he could recall from their match earlier was how much he enjoyed it.

He looked up to find Shiro, only to see her already by his side and snatching the ID card from him. She didn't say anything, inspecting it with an authoritative flare before handing it back to him.

"Looks nice," she said, but Sora waited for her to say more. She definitely had more to say, hiding her intentions with indifference. "...does this mean you'll come every day?"

His eyes widened momentarily before he burst into laughter. "Of course I will. I pink promised didn't I?"

Shiro flared at his purposely incorrect use of phrase and punched his arm. "Meanie."

"Hey~" a sing-songsy voice cried. "Let me in on the fun as well~"

And as the two females got together to plot Shiro's revenge, Sora watched on this exchange with a smile.

His questions were never answered but he got something even better than answers and that was—

_—the opportunity to see Shiro every day._

* * *

Word Count: 2925

* * *

A/N: I sincerely hope things didn't get too cheesy towards the end or if it did, it was at least bearable. Like I don't know. This chapter was, by far, the hardest to write. And undoubtedly future chapters will be challenging as well so yay, more slow updates!

But, I pink (cause pink is an awesome color) promise you I that I don't do it on purpose. School is starting and I gotta start applying for colleges and stuff, so hurray stress! For those of you reading this, how was your college process or if you haven't gone through it yet, are you anxious?

And more about my story, how was my depictions of the whole Sora/Shiro relationship? I'm still struggling to find their chemistry (cause just the fact that they're always together sealed it for me but in writing, it's way harder to depict this).

Anyways thanks for reading this far! Hope you send me some feedback through a review or if that's too much, maybe I could get an answer to any of my questions? I'd love to know more about my readers!

Again, thanks for reading; and hope to have your continued support through a review, follow, favorite, or even simply just by reading/viewing.

Until next time~


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